lifeboat.
Eight
JAKE WAS GETTING worried, there was still no sign of Lucya. Chief Engineer Martin Oakley had made his way to the bridge. Hotel Director Silvia Brook, responsible for passenger facilities, was also present. The only other crew member who had turned up so far was head of security Max Mooting. There was no sign of Captain Ibsen.
“Looks like this is the best we can hope for,” Hollen said. “We should probably get started.”
As he spoke, the bridge door opened slowly. Jake felt a surge of hope, but it wasn’t Lucya who entered, it was Grau Lister, the chief medical officer.
“Grau, what happened?” Hollen asked.
Lister limped in, aided by a crutch. His left leg dragged uselessly behind him.
“Ash,” he said. “Hot ash. Burned right through the muscle. I was lucky, I think it also took out the nerves, I can’t feel a thing.”
Silvia rushed over and tried to support him, but he brushed her away.
“No no, it’s nothing, don’t fuss. I’ve seen much worse,” he said. And he had.
The assembled crew arranged themselves around the map table. Jake found a chair for Lister. The table was high and the medical man could only just see over it from his perch.
“So, what on earth do we do now?” Hollen asked, looking around the table. “I can’t work out if we’re the lucky ones or not. We survived, but for what? I mean, where do we go?”
“We don’t go anywhere!” Silvia piped up. “Why is that your first question? We need to get this ship secure, assess damage, and most importantly make sure the people aboard are all safe. Those still alive, anyway.”
“With respect Silvia, and I know the wellbeing of passengers is your job, we can’t stay here, we’ll freeze. Visiting the Arctic circle is all well and good when you have a nice heated ship to retreat into, but with out generator out, we don’t have that luxury.” Hollen gestured towards Oakley, who nodded in agreement. “Starting the main engine will provide us with heat and power, and we can head for warmer waters. That doesn’t stop you getting the people aboard organised en route.”
“Staff Captain,” when Lister spoke, all at the table automatically turned to look at him. He was the oldest person present, and his clipped German accent gave him an air of authority. “You speak of warmer waters. Just how warm are you thinking?”
Hollen raised an eyebrow in response to the question.
“I ask,” Lister continued, “because we have witnessed first hand the devastating ash tail that followed that extra terrestrial rock. We were lucky, we caught only the end of it as it disappeared into the sky. Further south though, we don’t know what that ash has done to the sea. In more significant quantities it could have cooled, lumped together, formed lava rocks. Do you want to sail into these unknown dangers?”
“Rocks sink. I don’t see the problem?”
“Lava rocks are light, full of air pockets. They may float,” Lister said.
“If they are light enough to float then they are no danger to this ship.”
“And if the ash has formed into a carpet of molten rock, floating on the surface of the ocean?” Lister wasn’t giving up his position.
“Grau’s right, we don’t know what’s out there.” Jake was surprised to hear himself speak up. “Martin, how much fuel are we carrying?”
“About three thousand tonnes, give or take. We’re good for nine days cruising, ten at a push.”
“Once that fuel is gone, we have no electricity. No heat, no light, no fresh water if we can’t operate the desalination plant. No sanitation. What could still be out there that’s worth risking all that on?” Jake rubbed his eyes, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
“Or to put it another way,” Hollen said, “we stay here for what, a month? Running just the generator. And then what? In a month we have no heat, light, water, and certainly by then no food, and no prospect of finding any elsewhere, because we can’t start
Eight
JAKE WAS GETTING worried, there was still no sign of Lucya. Chief Engineer Martin Oakley had made his way to the bridge. Hotel Director Silvia Brook, responsible for passenger facilities, was also present. The only other crew member who had turned up so far was head of security Max Mooting. There was no sign of Captain Ibsen.
“Looks like this is the best we can hope for,” Hollen said. “We should probably get started.”
As he spoke, the bridge door opened slowly. Jake felt a surge of hope, but it wasn’t Lucya who entered, it was Grau Lister, the chief medical officer.
“Grau, what happened?” Hollen asked.
Lister limped in, aided by a crutch. His left leg dragged uselessly behind him.
“Ash,” he said. “Hot ash. Burned right through the muscle. I was lucky, I think it also took out the nerves, I can’t feel a thing.”
Silvia rushed over and tried to support him, but he brushed her away.
“No no, it’s nothing, don’t fuss. I’ve seen much worse,” he said. And he had.
The assembled crew arranged themselves around the map table. Jake found a chair for Lister. The table was high and the medical man could only just see over it from his perch.
“So, what on earth do we do now?” Hollen asked, looking around the table. “I can’t work out if we’re the lucky ones or not. We survived, but for what? I mean, where do we go?”
“We don’t go anywhere!” Silvia piped up. “Why is that your first question? We need to get this ship secure, assess damage, and most importantly make sure the people aboard are all safe. Those still alive, anyway.”
“With respect Silvia, and I know the wellbeing of passengers is your job, we can’t stay here, we’ll freeze. Visiting the Arctic circle is all well and good when you have a nice heated ship to retreat into, but with out generator out, we don’t have that luxury.” Hollen gestured towards Oakley, who nodded in agreement. “Starting the main engine will provide us with heat and power, and we can head for warmer waters. That doesn’t stop you getting the people aboard organised en route.”
“Staff Captain,” when Lister spoke, all at the table automatically turned to look at him. He was the oldest person present, and his clipped German accent gave him an air of authority. “You speak of warmer waters. Just how warm are you thinking?”
Hollen raised an eyebrow in response to the question.
“I ask,” Lister continued, “because we have witnessed first hand the devastating ash tail that followed that extra terrestrial rock. We were lucky, we caught only the end of it as it disappeared into the sky. Further south though, we don’t know what that ash has done to the sea. In more significant quantities it could have cooled, lumped together, formed lava rocks. Do you want to sail into these unknown dangers?”
“Rocks sink. I don’t see the problem?”
“Lava rocks are light, full of air pockets. They may float,” Lister said.
“If they are light enough to float then they are no danger to this ship.”
“And if the ash has formed into a carpet of molten rock, floating on the surface of the ocean?” Lister wasn’t giving up his position.
“Grau’s right, we don’t know what’s out there.” Jake was surprised to hear himself speak up. “Martin, how much fuel are we carrying?”
“About three thousand tonnes, give or take. We’re good for nine days cruising, ten at a push.”
“Once that fuel is gone, we have no electricity. No heat, no light, no fresh water if we can’t operate the desalination plant. No sanitation. What could still be out there that’s worth risking all that on?” Jake rubbed his eyes, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
“Or to put it another way,” Hollen said, “we stay here for what, a month? Running just the generator. And then what? In a month we have no heat, light, water, and certainly by then no food, and no prospect of finding any elsewhere, because we can’t start
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